Prompt: Dan and Blair have a sort of closure.
.
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She watched him for twenty minutes before he even noticed she was there. The party was in full swing; the music blared, the cocktails were in abundance, and the schmoozing would have made a politician proud. It was the sort of affair he would have found deplorable two years ago, and yet here it was drinking it all in. It wasn't as if he'd never been in the spotlight before, he had just never seemed to enjoy it before he unmasked himself as a notorious chronicler of Upper East Side scandal. Or perhaps he did enjoy it before his current fifteen minutes, and was simply a good actor. She would never know.
His entourage of assistants and publicists hovered nearby while he charmed the head of his publishing house with some tale or another. It was enough to make her want to retch. The very idea that Dan Humphrey required a person to pick up his dry cleaning and set up his dinner appointments for him was so supremely disappointing. It went against everything he always stood for, but then again, all of that had been a lie. The thought was a punch in the gut and it sent her searching for the exit.
She dialed her driver and headed out of the ballroom toward the elevators, but one of her heels caught in a crack in the floor delaying her escape. It took her six attempts to dislodge the shoe, during which time she caught the attention of several onlookers. An older gentlemen gave her a concerned look and asked her if she needed help getting home which was a bit disconcerting because she hadn't really had that much to drink. Or maybe she had; she had lost count when she'd spotted Dan enter the party with a tall red head on his arm. The woman seemed to be a professional acquaintance because her singular task for the evening had been to introduce him around to various pretentious looking somebodies who would undoubtedly be impressed that he had managed to snag a woman like her.
Blair waved the older man off citing a dizzy spell and opted to carry her shoes the rest of the way. She pushed the button and to her immense relief, she heard the tell tale ding almost immediately. However, before she could step foot into the box, she heard her name being called from behind. Sighing, she turned, expecting to see a business acquaintance but was instead greeted with the inscrutable face of one Dan Humphrey.
"Were you going to ignore me all night?" He joked, although something about his tone suggested he was actually a little offended by the prospect.
"You seemed pretty busy. I didn't want to interrupt, what with all of the important contacts you were making. I suppose you find that rude?"
"Well, no, I just thought you might say hello or something."
"I didn't realize we were back to dispensing pleasantries. Remind me again why I would bother feigning a friendship with the person who has been exploiting my every mistake and heartache for all of New York to see for the last seven years?" She let that hang in the air between them for a moment before turning briskly back to the open elevator doors...which were now closed. As she furiously punched the button again, she heard a chuckle come from behind her that made her blood boil. She whipped around and stuck a freshly manicured finger in his face.
"I don't see what there is to laugh about in all of this, Dan!"
Both of his hands went up in surrender. "Whoa, whoa. I'm not laughing at all of this," he gestured between them, "but you're awfully cute when you get angry."
"Don't be coy with me. I know who you really are."
"That's good because there are not many people who can say that."
"That wasn't a compliment, Humphrey! I know better than anyone that you are a social climbing pariah who uses and manipulates people to get what you want. You'll do anything; stalk people, fake friendships, sleep with women and tell them you love them. You're despicable. I know everyone else has forgiven you and even applauded you, but I don't. I won't."
His face fell. All pretense was pushed aside as he put his hands in his pockets, bringing to mind the guy she once knew and cared about very much.
"I never used you. At least, not in the way you're implying."
She balked. "What does that even mean?"
"It means that yes, you provided me something that I needed so I guess in way a did use you. But it wasn't malicious and it wasn't to propel my social status or career. And you gave it freely, willingly. It was, rather, you were," he choked a bit on the word, struggling to get it out, "salvation."
His words were met with silence.
Something about the way his feet shifted uncomfortably and the way he wouldn't look her in the eye told her that this was a rare moment of vulnerability for him. She'd seen it plenty of times before when they had been each other's closest confidantes, but not once since they'd broken up. Except that they had never really broken up and the thought made her cringe for some reason.
"I wasn't your salvation, Dan. I was simply a brief respite from your nefarious dealing with the Upper East Side. I wasn't special, just honest."
His eyes widened. "So you believe me? When we were together, it was real. It was more real than anything I've ever felt in my entire life. And I miss it. I miss you, Blair." Reaching for her hands, he murmured, "I miss us."
Soft. His hands were soft and warm. She had loved holding hands with Dan because of this simple fact. They had always made her feel so safe without being overbearing. They were a support rather than a crutch. But now, aside from the pleasantness of their warmth, they also smothered. She slipped her hands out of his and looked around to see if anyone had seen.
"Need I remind you that I'm married now? You can't do things that like. It isn't proper."
"Is that the only reason you object? Because it isn't proper?"
"No, I...I don't want you to touch me." She swallowed. "It hurts too much."
Visually affronted at her words, he retracted his hands and shoved them firmly in his pockets again.
"I'm sorry, Blair. I never wanted to hurt you. You were the one that I wanted to shield from all of this. I wanted you to be free. But I was selfish and angry and I let my pain dictate my actions. If I could take it all back-"
"Don't lie to me. You wouldn't take it back. I know you, remember? Besides, look where you are now. You've got it all; fame, money, notoriety, and a promising career ahead of you. That's what you wanted, isn't it?"
He lifted his eyes to meet hers and chose his next words carefully.
"It was what I wanted, initially. But none of it is worth losing you."
There it was, the truth. His new world was exciting but it was also a burden, like some dog and pony show. As she inspected him further, the strain in his voice and the tremble in his lips told her so much about his pain and the weight he carried. As much as he tried to hide it from everyone else, he wouldn't with her. He was miserable.
She began to sense that familiar cramping sensation in her throat that signaled the impending tears. Aggressively blinking to keep them at bay, she had the overwhelming urge to take him in her arms and hold on for dear life. She didn't hug him though, she couldn't. She merely gave him the smallest of smiles and attempted to soothe him as best as her pride would allow.
"Well, nonetheless, you will no doubt be very successful. At least you have that." It wasn't sufficient, but it would have to do because everything in her was screaming retreat. "Now, I really must get going." She turned and walked onto the elevator that had finally arrived. It was indeed time to go, but something felt off about her farewell. Something wasn't quite right. There was a step that needed to be taken and she was the only one who was able to take it. She glanced over her shoulder and casually offered him the world.
"You know, I still don't have anyone to go to Film Forum with me. I'm not saying tomorrow, or next week, but someday maybe we could accidentally run into each other there. On purpose."
His face lit up and somehow he was lighter. Somehow, she'd offered him respite again. She couldn't be sure, but she thought she saw the beginnings of that signature Humphrey smirk on his face as the doors slid shut in front of hers.